


State Scenes Collection

by hips_of_steel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Multi, TAGS WILL BE CONSTANTLY UPDATED AS CHARACTERS AND RELATIONSHIPS APPEAR
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-07-06 12:18:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15885903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hips_of_steel/pseuds/hips_of_steel
Summary: A collection of short scenes I've written featuring US State characters (mine and those belonging to my friends).First chapter will be an index sharing which characters are in the following chapters so you can read the stories that interest you.





	1. Index

Hello dear readers! Here is the index. Each entry will feature the chapter it's in, a brief description of the scene, and characters featured in it. It may also include a title and a ship. It will be updated with each chapter posted. Now, without further ado...

**Chapter One  
** Index

**Chapter Two**  
_Prohibition_  
California runs rum, and Oregon splits the profits of her speakeasy with him.  
Scene featuring Oregon and California, set during Prohibition. 

**Chapter Three**  
A unsent letter from California to Texas, circa 1882.  
Mentions of Oregon.

**Chapter Four**  
After twenty five years, Rosa returns a knife to Christopher.  
Featuring Nyo Texas, Nyo Oregon, and Oregon. Mentions of Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, California, and Washington State.

**Chapter Five**  
_how dare you_  
Marco and Jan Kees have a one sided argument over pizza.  
Featuring Florida and New York.  
Relationship: Florida/New York (FloNY)

**Chapter Six  
** One of the Union’s young territories reminds Seth of another young territory, and a memory from nearly forty years ago.  
Featuring Massachusetts and Idaho.

**Chapter Seven**  
Something happened between Mary and Robbie, something young Jean Baptiste wants to know.   
Featuring Illinois, Indiana, and Kentucky.

**Chapter Eight**  
Sam and Roberto have been dating for a while now, but while Roberto’s managed to set aside their messy past, some of his animals are not quite so forgiving.  
Featuring California and Texas  
Relationship: Texas/California (TexCali)

**Chapter Nine**  
On the eve of the first soldiers departing America for Europe’s shores to fight in the Great War, Jan Kees finds himself wondering if he can convince young Clark to be happy serving as a translator, instead of trying to seek action and glory on the front.  
Featuring New York and Idaho.  
Relationship: Background mention of New York/Kansas (NYKan)

**Chapter Ten**  
_storm_  
Alternate Universe. Martha is the goddess of the ocean, but she is so much more. She is the screaming fury of wind and water, the tempest blowing across the land. She is the _storm_ and she has no mercy.  
Featuring Washington State

**Chapter Eleven**  
Chris doesn’t know if he’s going to have to restrain Clark or encourage him when he spies Adam and Logan flirting across the room. But maybe on this day, Clark’s finally going to admit some of his feelings not only to himself, but Adam too.  
Featuring Nyo Oregon, Idaho, Nyo Washington, and Nebraska.  
Relationship: Idaho/Nyo Washington (IdaWash)

**Chapter Twelve**  
Elijah notices things about his brother as they fight in the Civil War. Things he refuses to voice aloud.  
Canon divergent to established backstories.   
Featuring New Jersey, New York, Florida, Michigan, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts.  
Relationship: Florida/New York (FloNY)

**_More coming soon..._ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> California runs rum, and Oregon splits the profits of her speakeasy with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oregon-Beverly Joseph-Astor  
> California-Roberto Fremont
> 
> Both these OCs belong to me.

No one quite understands why this strange looking Mexican is riding through their logging camp, speaking flawless English while he claims he’s making a delivery to “Miss Joseph-Astor”. His two horses and a mule follow after him, and even they seem strange, save the mule.

He approaches the cookhouse and ties the animals to the hitching post, and heads inside. Minutes later, he emerges with Beverly, and they stand there laughing and grinning, speaking in Spanish and chuckling. The loggers watch as she checks a pack on the mule, nods, and then hands him a stack of green bills. He nods, and she unloads the mule with his help into the back of the kitchen.

The man leaves as quickly as he had come after that, whistling a tune as he rides away. No one quite makes the connection yet.

Until that evening. There are a few special drinks that can be paid for at dinner. Tequila, rum, red wine. All with a bite from the southern border. Worth the pretty penny, and better than any moonshine they’d been making in their homes.

After that, whenever the strange man comes into camp with various pack animals, the loggers begin to greet him. Some names are friendly, others less so, but he just nods and waves with a smile.

And even when the Depression strikes, he keeps on making his deliveries to Beverly, until the day prohibition ends.

That night, as the loggers get drunk on now legal stock, in the back of the camp, Beverly and Roberto sit, counting out the money from all these years. They split it evenly, nod, and then part ways once more.

They’ll see each other soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A unsent letter from California to Texas, circa 1882.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> California: Roberto Fremont  
> Texas: Samuel Seguin  
> Oregon: Beverly Joseph-Astor
> 
> Texas belongs to crikadelic. Oregon and California belong to me.

You weren't there. 

You weren't there, Sam. You weren't  _there_.

You weren't there when she needed comfort. When she needed care. I had to raise her. I had to care for her. Beverly was my responsibility, and you weren't there.

You were there to take all her smiles, there to hear all her laughs, there to hold her when she was happy.

You were there when it was easy.

I was there when it was  _hard_.

I handled the screams, the tantrums. I handled the actual raising and teaching of a child.

You taught her to use a weapon.

I taught her right and wrong, I taught her to judge and not judge. I was her impulse control, her guidance, her example.

And you?

 _You_  were her brother.

When you broke away,  _she_  suffered. I held her, comforted her, cared for her, and protected her.

And you?

_You weren't there._

You weren't there! You didn't do anything to earn that love! It was given to you in abundance, you never had to earn it!

I did my best to earn it! Stories, songs, holding her and giving her my own love unconditionally! I did my best by her, I did!

And yet I am scorned, I am the one who fights to keep her affections! I am often turned away in favor of you.

And you?

You weren't there.

And  _that_  hurts worst of all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After twenty five years, Rosa returns a knife to Christopher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyo Texas: Rosa Seguin-Tenayuca  
> Nyo Oregon: Christopher Joseph  
> Oregon: Beverly Joseph-Astor  
> Texas: Samuel Seguin  
> Arizona: Lilakai Slaughter  
> New Mexico: Victorio Wauneka  
> California: Roberto Fremont  
> Washington State: Martha Landes-Bush
> 
> Nyo Texas, Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico belong to crikadelic. Nyo Oregon, Oregon, California, and Washington State belong to myself.

It was dawn and Christopher had been with them for about two weeks when Rosa knew she had to do it. All these years, she'd carried it around, but it had never truly been hers.

The camp was already nearly empty. Sam was out with the horses, feeding and grazing them, Victorio was off keeping watch, and Lilakai... well, she didn't know where Lilakai was, and that was probably for the best. Beverly, meanwhile, was at the campfire, making coffee, while Chris sat nearby on a rock, scratching something into the dirt.

She walked over and while he looked up at her, she looked down at the drawing. It was obviously a battle, but before she could discern any more, he drug his foot through it, obscuring it immediately, and then turning away.

He'd changed.

Rosa kicked herself internally. Of course he'd changed. The last time she'd seen him had been what, twenty-five years ago? He'd been hardly more than a child then, a pain in the side for Roberto. Protective of his sister, resistant to learning English, and only ever seeming to soften up around her and Samuel, the only people he seemed to trust Beverly with.

And then, almost overnight, he'd vanished. Roberto couldn't go after him, with newborn Martha to take care of, and Alfred had decided to let him go.

"He'll be back soon enough. We have more important issues than single boy."

And besides, after what he'd done to Bev, Roberto certainly wouldn't have let him interfere in Oregon either way.

But now Chris sat here, no longer a bright eyed, laughing child, but a dark eyed, war weary young man, and Rosa wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Hey." She said, sitting down next to him. "I was wondering if we could talk."

He glanced up at her, and while he obviously didn't know every word, he got her meaning, and nodded. Beverly glanced up from the coffee and seemed to decide to listen in. That might be helpful if Rosa needed anything to be translated.

"I... I have something of yours, from a long time ago."

Beverly murmured out a sentence in another language, and Chris sat taller, looking at her a little more clearly now. War weary he was, but somehow, still a youth. He paused for a moment, clearly formatting the sentence in is brain, and then responded.

"What do you have?"

Rosa reached down into her boot. She'd had the knife so long she'd made a sheath for it, something that if Chris had originally had, certainly hadn't been handed over to her. She managed to get both knife and sheath out, and then held it out to him.

"Your knife."

There was a long pause, and then he carefully reached out and took the knife from her, his fingertips brushing so gently against her palm like he almost doesn't believe it's real. Once it's in his hands, he pulls it from the sheath, and gazes at the blade.

Rosa's managed to avoid more than normal damage to it, despite having used it as a last resort weapon through a war and the last few years. He runs his fingertips over the metal, and then turns to Beverly, saying something that he clearly doesn't have enough English words for to yet explain, and knowing she'll translate for him.

Beverly glances up, and takes a deep breath. "That knife was one of the ones the Nimiipuu traded for with the Corps of Discovery. Since we came the summer that they left, when we didn't age, the Nimiipuu decided we were connected to the strangers as well as the land, and gave me this knife. I have had it as long as I remembered, before I let you take it to be with my sister. Thank you for returning it to me. I feared it was lost to me forever."

Rosa looks at Chris, whose gazing at her earnestly, and he manages the English words this time.

"Thank you."

She nods, and watches as he sheathes the blade, standing and attaching it to his belt, fiddling with it until he's got it where he wants it, easy to draw and slash with. Beverly smiles for a few moments, and then Christopher turns again.

He's hugging her before she knows it, and he says something that she doesn't understand, before pulling back and heading over to ask Beverly if she needs help. Beverly shakes her head with a smile, and then Sam returns with the horses, distracting them all anyways.

Later, as they're riding away from that camp, Rosa watches him draw the knife, twirling it, and finding the balance in his hands once more.

She's glad she could return it to him at last.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Jan Kees have a one sided argument over pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Florida: Marco Carlos Alegre de Narváez  
> New York: Jan Kees Jones
> 
> Florida belongs to bottot.tumblr.com, New York belongs to me.

Marco was just sitting down with his little pizza out of the oven when Jan Kees came back to the apartment, setting down his briefcase, and muttering out a few curses towards someone (probably Elijah, from the sound of Jan’s exasperation). Marco waves from the dining room, and then turns towards his food. He and Jan have a policy that if Jan’s not back by six, Marco’s eating without him, and it’s nearly six thirty already.

However, he’s hardly two bites into the aforementioned pizza when he hears Jan speak.

“What the hell are you eating?”

Marco glances up at him, and then shrugs. “Pizza. Bought it out of the freezer at the corner store.”

“That-” Jan says with certainty in his voice. “-is not pizza.”

Marco rolls his eyes. He knows exactly what this is about. “Listen, Jan, just because it’s not New York style doesn’t mean it isn’t pizza-”

“How dare you bring this monstrosity called ‘deep dish’ into my home.”

Jan’s still offended, but its hard to take him seriously when they’re arguing over  _pizza_. Marco admits it, he snorts.

“Alright, if you want to debate what legally defines pizza, I’ll leave that up to you and Jean Baptiste.”

“Illinois knows  _nothing_  about pizza, and besides, you’re eating it in my house!” 

Marco looks up and Jan still looks so serious, and he bursts into laughter. Jan’s frown twitches at the corner, and Marco can’t help it, he doubles over again.

“You look so fucking ridiculous, Yank!” He manages through tears, and slowly, Jan’s frown starts to fade slightly. Marco manages to get up, and hands him his phone.

“Alright, if you’ve got such a problem with it, order in some  _real_  pizza. But you’re paying.”

Jan rolls his eyes, but the Floridian pops up on his toes and kisses the much taller New Yorker (really, who let this man be 5′11?), and that’s the end of that.

“Alright, Florida Man, just get that horror out of my sight.”

Marco laughs. “With pleasure.”

Jan steps into the living room to order pizza, and Marco quickly finishes off the rest of the personal sized deep dish. When Jan returns, he notes the empty plate.

“You tossed it, right?”

Marco smiles coyly while patting his stomach, and Jan groans. “What am I going to do with you?”

Marco laughs again, and this time, Jan breaks into a smile as well, even though he’s still trying not too. “Seriously, what am I going to do with you?!”

They’re still laughing when the delivery man finally brings them their pizza, New York style this time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the Union's young territories reminds Seth of another young territory, and a memory from nearly forty years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massachusetts: Seth Jones  
> Idaho: Clark Ashley  
> Oregon: Beverly Joseph-Astor
> 
> Massachusetts belongs to TsunaKV, Idaho and Oregon belong to me.

Seth blinks at the young boy standing in front of him for a moment before speaking. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

Clark grins, clearly delighted to be receiving attention from an older state as he shuts the book with a firm snap. "Bev taught me to read like you taught her! That's what she told me! She'd sit me on her lap and we'd go through the paper every evening. She said you used to do the same with her!"

Seth found himself surprised that Beverly had remembered doing that. She'd been under the care of the eastern states so briefly, he had assumed they were simply lucky to break her of that foul English accent she'd acquired and get her partially down the path of literacy before she had been entrusted to California.

But Clark was still smiling at him, waiting for a response, and Seth looked at the boy. His eyes were bright the same way so many young states had been over the years, with the light of the future gleaming out from them. So he reached over and patted his head, perhaps a little awkwardly, but not enough for it to be too noticeable to him.

"Well then, it was clearly a good way to learn."

Clark nods, and puts the book back on the shelf, and then there's a shout for him. It sounds like Alfred. After all, the boy is about the youngest member of the Union, even if he's still technically a territory.

"Oh! Better go! Thank you, Seth!"

He runs from the room near quick as a bullet, and Seth watches him go. He closes his eyes briefly and remembers a distant memory, from before the civil war.

_Beverly crawls up into his lap as he sits with the Boston Globe, and sits comfortably (for her at least). He unfolds the paper, and points to a specific article._

_"Read this one for me."_

_She takes a deep breath and releases it before beginning. "Visiting... man says he was robbed... police disagree..."_

_She stumbles through the article, he corrects her when she needs it, but at the end of the article, she's smiling. "Another one, I've read another one!" She cries, like its a victory. Because for her, it is._

_It's only then, after she smiles one last big grin and calms down that she's ushered off to bed._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happened between Mary and Robbie, something young Jean Baptiste wants to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illinois: Jean Baptiste Armstrong  
> Indiana: Mary La Fontaine  
> Kentucky: Robert (Robbie) Cavelier
> 
> Kentucky belongs to BotTot, Illinois and Indiana belong to me.

Jean Baptiste didn't understand why Robbie and Mary had come stumbling out of the trees looking the way they did. He'd been following after them, curious as to where Mary had gone, when they had appeared, and things were... strange.

Mary looked angry, eyes furious, and darting around like she was looking for anything to yell at to take out her feelings. There was a few leaves and twigs in her hair, and she had her lips pursed.

Robbie meanwhile, was rubbing at his jaw. A bruise was forming on his face, causing his freckles to disappear, replaced by purple and black. He just looked like he hurt.

Mary spotted Jean, and sighed.  _"What are you doing out here?"_ She called out in Miami-Illinois, and he responds with the same.

_"Looking for you and Robbie. What happened?"_

_"Nothing."_ She replied, walking past him. "Return home by sunset, alright, Jean?"

He nodded, watching his older sister walk away, and then glanced at Robbie.

He had sat down on a fallen log, rubbing at his face some more, and Jean slowly walked over. Mary and Robbie were both about eleven or twelve (time meant so little to them anyhow), and he, meanwhile, was probably about eight or nine. Maybe ten if he stretched it. Jean hopped up onto the log next to him, and Robbie just kept looking at the ground, rubbing at his face.

"What happened?" Jean asked, and Robbie suddenly glanced up at him. Jean looked at him curiously, and after a moment, Robbie sighed, and answered.

"Mary hit me."

"Why?" Jean asked. He'd seen his sister hit boys before, but normally because they were mean to her (or him), and normally it was to shove them over on their backs, not punch them in their faces. And she and Robbie were friends. He wouldn't be mean to her.

"I... I tried to kiss her." Robbie answers, and Jean doesn't quite get why he blushes. "So... she hit me."

Jean's confused, and it must show, because Robbie sighs. "You wouldn't get it."

"Mary doesn't mind when I kiss her."

"You're her brother, doesn't count."

Jean shrugged, and then looked at Robbie. "You could kiss me and I'll kiss her for you then!"

Robbie shakes his head. "No, no, that's not the point. You'll... you'll get it when you're older, okay?"

"Can't you explain it to me?"

"No!" Robbie's tone comes out a little sharp, and then he backpedals a bit. "No, it's just... wait a few years, then you'll understand, alright?"

Jean frowns at that answer. He  _hates_  when people tell him he'll understand when he's older. But Robbie just sighs.

"Let's just say I won't try that again, alright?" 

Jean makes a little noise of frustration, and then leans against Robbie's shoulder, staring out towards the next little stand of trees, frowning at them harshly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Roberto have been dating for a while now, but while Roberto’s managed to set aside their messy past, some of his animals are not quite so forgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> California: Roberto  
> Texas: Samuel  
> Baja California: Chelo  
> Baja California Sur: Angelino
> 
> Sam belongs to crikadelic, as always, and Roberto, Chelo, and Angelino all belong to me.

Sam supposed things between him and Roberto's animals could have been worse, but they also could be a lot  _better_.

Muir had warmed up to him quick enough, the McNab collie obviously recognizing Sam was no real threat to his person rather fast, and he was a sucker for attention, trotting behind him and Rob around the house, waiting for the moment to creep up into someone's lap and get scratched on his back.

Captain Jack had also warmed up to him, although the little thing like to yap for about an hour every time Sam entered the house or he felt they weren't paying enough attention to him (which was always). Roberto couldn't bribe him with enough food to keep him quiet.

And when they went out with the horses, Roberto's horses seemed to all like him well enough. Zorro was a bit wild, but no more than normal for any stallion, and neither Yosemite nor Shastina minded him at all.

But with both dogs and horses, there was one  _noted_ exception among Roberto's animals.

Clara would be gentle with Rob one second, and ears pressed back and ready to bite him the next. Roberto rolled his eyes, and tried to explain to the mare that he and Sam were no longer antagonizing each other (at least not in a way that should irritate her), but she was very protective of him.

_She's nearly as bad as Chelo._  Sam thought one day when, through a turn of events, the two Mexican states of California were visiting. Clara, of course, happily carried Chelo next to Roberto, riding high on Zorro, while Angelino trotted around on Shastina.

Sam glanced down at Yosemite with a sigh, giving Roberto and his family a little space for a moment. "I'm just stuck riding you for the irony, aren't I?"

The gelding snorted and trotted after the other three.

As for the dogs, well...

Carmelo wasn't quite as obvious with his distaste as Clara was. He was... slightly more subtle.

He'd wait until Sam and Roberto had settled down to watch a movie or something similar, and pretend to settle down himself. But over the course of the evening, he'd work his way over towards them, until the xolo was firmly between Roberto and Sam, a silent lieutenant of sorts.

And he did not like when Roberto forced him down, sulking away and watching from a distance. The sheer intensity of his look was enough to make Sam feel guilty.

Normally, xolos weren't quite this bright in order to hold such long term grudges, but Sam supposed that Carmelo had spent so long with Rob that that would affect things. After all, it got to a point where their pets had lived nearly as long as they had. Carmelo seemed to remember quite clearly when Sam had thought he was a chupacabra and tried to deal with the monster, and he didn't understand why Roberto would now freely associate with such a person.

Rob, in truth, found it humorous, which did not help matters.

"They'll warm up to you eventually,  _mi cielito_ , the same way I did."

Sam wasn't quite as sure. Clara still acted like she had after he'd tried to run Roberto over with Widow-maker in the 1790s, and he dared not imagine how she'd ever react if he brought the stallion with him (she'd probably wait until he'd mounted up, and then try to chase him off again).

And Carmelo, well...

"Carmelo!" Rob snapped as Carmelo flopped across his lap. The xolo whined, sitting up and using his long tongue to lick Roberto's face. "You know you're not supposed to be up here-"

Sam reaches over and gives the dog a scratch behind the ears, but Carmelo retreats, and Roberto sighs. "One day you'll figure out that's he's alright, you know."

Carmelo settles back down into Rob's lap, and Rob leans over into Sam's shoulder.

He keeps his arm tight around him, and when he goes for a kiss towards the end of the movie, he's not surprised to find a dog's nose trying to get in the way.

Eventually, they'll warm up to him.

Eventually...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out crikadelic.tumblr.com and hipsofsteel.tumblr.com for more information about these OCs!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eve of the first soldiers departing America for Europe's shores to fight in the Great War, Jan Kees finds himself wondering if he can convince young Clark to be happy serving as a translator, instead of trying to seek action and glory on the front.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New York: Jan Kees Jones  
> Idaho: Clark Ashley  
> Kansas: Evelyn Lawrence  
> Oregon: Beverly Joseph-Astor
> 
> Kansas belongs to MorningGlory21, all other OCs belong to me.

Clark doesn't seem to understand why he's been requested here. After all, Jan supposes, he's never shown any real interest in the young Idahoan before. But the boy acts polite enough as he enters his office, glancing around, but mainly keeping his eyes to himself.

Jan Kees finishes the letter he was writing, and then glances up, gesturing to the seat across from him. "Sit down, Clark. I just need to address this."

Clark sits down. He's still a child, really. He wears an army uniform, still crisp and clean. His eyes are still that of a young boy, though his face is that of a young man.

Jan addresses the envelope while speaking. "I hear you're to serve in intelligence when you arrive in Europe."

Clark rolls his eyes. "Evelyn's doing."

Jan glances up at him. "You'll be thanking her later, you know."

Clark shoots him a look. "I'm not a child."

Jan sighs. "Trust me, Clark, you are. Maybe not as much in comparison to her, but in comparison to others? You're still very much following in the footsteps of your elders, trying to emulate them." He sets down his pen. "But I've not asked you here to dissuade you from war. It's too late for that anyhow."

Clark raises an eyebrow (Jan thinks with a slight snort that it's almost thick enough to be a British brow, like the ones Seth so despises to find in the mirror every morning). Jan slowly folds his letter, and speaks quietly.

"I won't tell you that you won't see action at some point, nor that you shouldn't seek it. But I will stress to you, that translating is an equally important job. Intelligence is vital to the success of any war, and your knowledge of the German language is superb."

Clark rolls his eyes at that. "If you think you can argue with me-"

Jan raises his hands, and Clark quiets down, but there's a spark in his eyes, waiting to turn into a flame. Jan needs to avoid blowing it into one as best he can. Jan lowers his hands, and then looks at the boy tiredly. "Keep in mind, Clark, I was fighting my fourth war when you were born. I know a thing or two about battle. And I know how useful intelligence can be thanks to that." He pours out a glass of whiskey, and hands the first to Clark, pouring himself a second one. "In fact, I was a spy in the Revolutionary War. And let me tell you, that's a hard job." He tilts back the whiskey, and glances over for a moment. Clark's eyes are on him.

_I've got his attention. Good._

"Being a spy is hard, Clark. You have to fight with a side you don't believe in, in order to ensure the success of the side you do. It wasn't pleasant. Wearing a red coat, consorting with loyalists, having to obey orders from a man I hated. Getting shot at and called a traitor by both sides. But the information I provided... that was vital to winning the war." He sets down the glass, and actually turns to look at the boy again. "You won't be fighting with the enemy. You won't be wearing a German uniform. But you will be giving Alfred information that he desperately needs to win this war, to end it fast like no one else has. Just think that over on your way to Europe."

There's quiet, and Clark nods. Jan refills his drink, and lifts his glass. Clark accepts the offer for a toast, and their glasses clink together.

"To the success of the war." Jan says.

"To the success of the war." Clark echoes, and they both drink. Jan stands, sliding his letter into the envelope, and then moves to seal it. 

"Give me a moment, and we will walk to the door together."

Clark rises, but he shakes his head. "No. I'd rather get going. But thank you for the drink."

Jan nods as the boy turns to leave.

He walks over to the door, and he's about to step out as Jan seals the envelope, but then he suddenly stops.

"Jan Kees?"

Jan looks up, and Clark looks him directly in the eyes.

"I know you're sleeping with Evelyn. And that she must have asked you to call me here to try to 'reason' with me. So I'll take that into consideration as I think things over on my way to Europe. And feel free to tell her I said as much."

And with that, he opens and shuts the door, headed down the stairs out to the street. Jan sighs, walking over to the window and watching him appear in the streets, orient himself, and then head off towards the barracks he'll be departing from soon enough.

"You're just like your sisters, boy. Evelyn and Beverly both. Too damn stubborn to know when someone's talking sense to you." He murmurs. Perhaps that tone's a little too fond, and he turns back to the letter.

He's done what he can. That will have to be enough for her.

For all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out morning-gloree21.tumblr.com and hipsofsteel.tumblr.com for more information on these OCs!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Universe. Martha is the goddess of the ocean, but she is so much more. She is the screaming fury of wind and water, the tempest blowing across the land. She is the storm and she has no mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Washington State-Martha Landes-Bush
> 
> This OC belongs to me.

She is a tempest, anger and rage paired with ice and silence. A screaming fury of water and winter. 

She is a  _storm_ , and she has no mercy.

Those who she does not touch are spared merely by the bonds of family. Her brother, as red haired as she, and silent as the calmest, darkest night. The elders who raised them. But she is not openly warm to them. She only listens and nods, accepting their words.

She is the mighty ocean, and her fury is bitter. Her anger like a sneaking wave will destroy all she can reach. Screaming and roaring, she pounds relentless at the shore. She has never forgiven those who wrong her, and will destroy them and those who annoy her in the slightest. 

She is mighty and powerful, untamed. And she never will be. She discards lovers like trees do their leaves in the fall. She may change shape, form, and more, and she may act sweet in some ways, but never forget who she is.

She will tear you limb from limb, steal your breath forever, and never look back.

She is  _the_  storm, and you will not escape her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris doesn’t know if he’s going to have to restrain Clark or encourage him when he spies Adam and Logan flirting across the room. But maybe on this day, Clark’s finally going to admit some of his feelings not only to himself, but Adam too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyo Oregon-Christopher Joseph  
> Idaho-Clark Ashley  
> Nyo Washington-Adam Landes-Bush  
> Nebraska-Logan LaFlesche
> 
> All OCs belong to me.

Chris doesn't even need to look up to know why Clark's empty beer can just crumpled in his hand, but he does anyhow. Mainly just to gauge if he's going to need to grab the back of Clark's worn denim jacket to keep him from doing something stupid.

Adam is laying down on the couch across the room, feet kicked up on the arm, signing away with a grin while his head is resting in Logan's lap. Logan is nodding and talking in response, and occasionally running a hand through Adam's short red hair.

_Yeah, okay, be on standby to grab idiot Idahoan._  Chris thinks, setting down his glass and turning to Clark. "Let him have some fun, alright?"

"I have no problem with him having fun." Clark hisses. "But Nebraska? Fucking  _Nebraska_?"

"You'd be just as upset if it wasn't Nebraska." Chris responds. "It could be Vermont or South Carolina or anyone else, and you'd be just as bristled and puffed up as you are now. Hell, it could even be Jacob, and you'd still be just as much of a porcupine currently."

Clark shoots him a glare, and Chris shrugs. "It's true, Clark-o. You don't like to share his attention with anyone outside of our little corner, and that's just because you know he views anyone besides you as family."

Clark rolls his eyes. "Please, Chris, I do not-"

"You do, don't deny it." Chris said, looking at Clark tiredly, but also with a slight smile. "You don't deny it about yourself as much anymore, you know."

Clark doesn't meet his eyes, sipping on a second drink, eyes still across the room. "What's the use? You're all gonna insist it's what I am anyhow."

"Being bisexual's just fine, kiddo. In truth, I'm the weird one, being straight." Chris teases. "But what else can I be when I have a bombshell for a girlfriend? Makes it hard for a man to think of much else."

Clark nods, takes another sip of his drink, and sighs.

"Chris?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think... do you think that I have an actual chance with Adam? I've been driving him off for about a century now... why'd he even still have any interest in me at this point?"

Chris pauses, and then grabs his whiskey, tossing it back, and slamming the empty glass down on the counter. "Alright, you sentient potato, listen to me right now. Adam is still  _head over fucking heels_  for you. He loves you with some sort of passion I can't even comprehend, with how thick headed and stubborn you are. But he does. So, now I need you to ask yourself if  _you_  love  _him_? And if the way you've been dancing around the subject for the last several years is any indication, then you do." Chris reaches over, clasping Clark's shoulder firmly, and Clark turns to look at him. "And I'll have you know... if you walk over there right now and ask him for a dance, he'll be leaving Logan's lap in an instant to join you."

Clark looks away, and then drains the pint slowly, sets it down, and nods.

"Alright then. You've made your point."

Chris grins as Clark suddenly straightens, and walks across the room, purpose rather than annoyance in his walk. Chris watches, and Logan notices his approach, a slightly familiar grin coming to the Nebraskan's face. Adam sits up slightly when he realizes Clark is approaching.

Chris has watched something similar to this a thousand times, but he knows its different this time. He orders two glasses of bourbon, and waits.

This time, instead of bullshitting an excuse or yanking Adam away or something along those lines, Clark speaks quietly, and from the way Adam shoots up into actually sitting, it's obviously caught his attention too. Even Logan looks mildly surprised, and Chris is sure he's not imagining that there's a heavy pink tint coming to Clark's face.

But then he manages to offer out a hand, and Adam takes it, rising swiftly, and Logan grins and says something that gets a grin out of Adam, who turns and drags Clark behind him for once, out onto the floor.

Chris grabs the two glasses of whiskey and slowly crosses the room, watching Adam and Clark place their hands correctly to begin a west coast swing dance (Adam's letting Clark take the lead, likely to save his pride). After a few moments, he turns his eyes towards his real focus, and reaches Logan quickly.

"Hey." Logan says with a chuckle, and Chris offers him one of the glasses, settling into the side of the couch Adam had previously been using. "So, he's finally growing up, isn't he?"

"Indeed. A toast to the Idahoan, for finally getting a brain between those two ears." Chris gently teases, and they clink the glasses together, each then taking a sip.

They watch as Clark leads Adam across the floor, Adam absolutely living for it, a smile on his face and in his eyes. A smile that Chris hasn't truly seen in a long, long time. Logan smiles softly. It's fond, not a hint of anger in those eyes.

"What do you think is finally clicking in his head after all this time?" Logan asks after a few moments. "What changed?"

Chris pauses, and then shrugs. "I think part of it is just... it finally did click. That he cares about him, that he loves him, that he wants him. And that's finally made him appropriately scared of  _losing_  him."

Logan nods, taking another sip. "And the other part?"

Chris leans back with a sigh. "Well... Adam might have mentioned that he was thinking about attempting to get serious with you again. You know how Clark reacted to that  _last time_."

"I'm shocked I didn't receive a threatening shotgun warning on my front porch from a filthy Idahoan who'd decided to walk from Boise to Lincoln without stopping." Logan says with a smile, and glances out at them again. "You know, Adam's a great guy, but... I'm glad to see Clark finally figuring it out about him. There's a certain way he makes Adam just absolutely shine, and I don't think I could ever replicate that, even if I tried."

Chris glances over at Logan and Logan looks over at him. "You raised a really wonderful kid, Chris. And I'm glad I get to see him finally be happy with the guy he's always loved."

Chris nods and tips back the glass. His bourbon finished, he glances back over at the pair, Adam's smile is fond, his hands tight on the man he loves, and Clark looks just slightly dumbstruck, like he can't quite believe that he's got Adam in his arms after all this time. 

"I'm glad I get to see them figure it out... both of them." Chris smiles, and then turns. "You know, Logan, if you're already thinking about starting to go on the prowl again, I  _might_  know someone-"

"If you say Helen, I will not hesitate to dropkick you to the moon right here and now." Logan immediately responds, and Chris laughs. The pair just leans back and watches Clark and Adam dance, happy that they seem to be figuring things out at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and a great new year's, kids.  
> -Jess (hips_of_steel)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah notices things about his brother as they fight in the Civil War. Things he refuses to voice aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Jersey-Elijah  
> New York-Jan Kees  
> Florida-Marco  
> Michigan-Fatima  
> Rhode Island-Liam  
> Massachusetts-Seth
> 
> Florida belongs to bottot and Rhode Island and Massachusetts belong to TsunaKV. All other OCs belong to me.

Elijah says nothing when he notices that supplies has gone missing. Food, bandages, and medicine all disappear from the kit he keeps as frequently as Jan Kees does. Jan shrugs when the others confront him about his disappearances upon his return, brushing them off with a frown and silently setting himself down next to Elijah, not saying anything.

Eli also knows who he's been seeing when he sees the Confederates beating a hasty retreat one day, dragging their slaves and others with them. Marco looks like shit, but he follows his people, forced on by the commitment of his citizens rather than any desire to fight for the Confederacy.

And Jan's eyes follow after him.

The next time Jan takes to disappearing, he comes back without his pocket watch, the one with his state seal engraved on it. Liam snorts, and asks if the enemy's such a damn good fuck that Jan's ready to betray his country for it.

Only Fatima placing herself between them stops Jan's backhand from striking Liam hard.

Elijah says nothing. It's harder to bring any judgement down on his brother in this moment. They've never fought a war like this before. They've been pitted against old friends and lovers, forced to break bonds they'd rather not. When Jan rides away one afternoon, he says nothing, even when less than ten minutes later, Seth's demanding to see Jan, screaming and screeching to find out where he is.

He returns with a hickey that time, and Seth glares while screaming about some new problem, but never says a word about it to anyone else.

Elijah pretends not to notice the small cross carved from the wood of a palm tree that Jan puts around his neck later that day.

This is a war that will cost them everything, whether won or lost.

So when the confederate states are finally surrendering, everyone pretends not to notice the silver pocket watch with the seal of New York on it in Florida's hands as Marco falls into line behind the other surrendered states, Jan containing every urge in his body that begs him to reach out and pull the Floridian close to him once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out bottot.tumblr.com, zapphi.tumblr.com, and hipsofsteel.tumblr.com for more information on these OCs.


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